


In Love With His Car

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Other, aziraphale is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-02 17:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19446079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: Aziraphale can sense love; it radiates off Crowley every time he sees him. He just can't quite sense what it is Crowley actually loves.





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale can sense love, and Crowley is absolutely radiating it.

He's never really understood how Crowley wound up on Hell's side in the first place; he's always been so full of love, even if at first it was a love of sin and mischief. He had positively  _ surged  _ with the stuff when he'd heard about Aziraphale giving away the sword. Ever since then, wherever Crowley goes, there seems to be something to love.

He can't actually sense  _ what  _ Crowley loves, of course, but it's usually not hard to work out. At the Ark, for example, he'd loved all those humans marked for death, marked as sinners. Especially the kids; he'd been disgusted and appalled and yet his heart had taken every last one of them in. It must have; there had been so  _ much  _ love. He'd been less attached to the robbers at the Crucifixion, but that love had still been there, tangible and strong. Perhaps, knowing Crowley, he had simply loved the drama of the thing.

Crowley had loved the drunken citizens in that pub in Rome. He had loved the theatre, or perhaps he had loved Shakespeare. He'd  _ really  _ loved clanking around in a suit of armour, for some reason, far more than Aziraphale himself had - horrible heavy things, suits of armour. He'd  _ adored _ the French Revolution, of course - all those heads getting chopped off - and Aziraphale had almost collapsed from the surge of love Crowley had felt when he'd got to destroy a church  _ and  _ a handful of Nazis all at once.

For all the time they'd been meeting in St James' Park, it had been clear to Aziraphale that Crowley loved the ducks. Despite his occasional attempts to sink them, there was always love in that park. And once he'd acquired the Bentley, it was no wonder that love rolled off the demon in great warm waves wherever he went.

"Which do you love more? The ducks, or the Bentley?" Crowley looked puzzled.

"My car, of course. What makes you think I love the stupid ducks? I hardly love anything, I'm not wasting it on ducks."

"But you love lots of things, my dear. There's no shame in it."

"Yeah? Name one." He seemed indignant, in that languid way of his, and then as Aziraphale reeled off the list he began to laugh.

"There's no use denying it, Crowley. I'm an  _ angel,  _ I know love when I see it."

"Do you, now?" Crowley sat up, yellow eyes fixed unblinkingly on Aziraphale's own. It felt rather like being under a microscope. "And there's nothing else in all those examples that I might have loved instead?"

"Er… well, in the Garden there was-"

"Nothing they all have in common?" The demon pressed, and it was Aziraphale's turn to laugh.

"Hardly. I mean, there are  _ hundreds  _ of occasions - I don't think I've ever seen you and  _ not  _ sensed your love. Funny old demon. Fine, have your pride, I won't tease you about it again."

And Crowley had looked at him as if he wanted to argue, and Aziraphale had wished he would - arguing with Crowley over trivial things made dull evenings infinitely more entertaining - but then he'd slumped back into his seat and turned his attention to the business at hand.

"Right, then. I'm meant to be in Caerphilly next week and you know how I hate the rain."

" _ Yes,  _ I'll stop by for a quick temptation or two once I've finished in Cardiff. But you can help me out in London while I'm gone. Maybe suggest some service stations in that big circular road they're building."

"Of course, angel." There was another swell of love, but Aziraphale politely ignored it; of course Crowley loved London, and getting his own way, and not having to make an effort - and he had a sneaking suspicion he might  _ also  _ love interfering with the M25.

"Well, then. That's settled."

* * *

_ I don't think I've ever seen you and not sensed your love. _

Crowley rested his head on the steering wheel of the Bentley - which he did love - and quietly despaired of the angel he loved too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist this, sorry.

It was Crowley who brought it up, days after the apocalypse had failed to happen.

"Angel," he began, and something in his curious tone made Aziraphale want to run away to Alpha Centauri after all. "What was that look on your face, when I arrived at the air base?"

"I didn't  _ have  _ my face when you arrived at the air base."

"That woman's face, then. What was that?"

"Well." He should lie, shouldn't he? That was what people did. " _ Love _ ." He wasn't, after all, people.

"Love?" Crowley's face went on a journey Aziraphale couldn't follow; perhaps any demon would be disgusted by the confession, but Crowley loved so  _ many  _ things. Was it so much worse that Aziraphale loved him?

"I suppose," Aziraphale hedged, and Crowley stared at him in what must be wide-eyed horror. Maybe lying was a good idea. "Er, I'm in love with your car-"

Crowley's hands suddenly cradled his face, and Crowley's eyes bored into his, and Crowley's lips pressed against his, serpentine tongue flicking out to taste him. Aziraphale panicked for a moment - he didn't know what to do in this situation, and no amount of thinking about kissing Crowley had prepared him for the divine sensation of  _ actually kissing Crowley  _ \- but then it was  _ Crowley, _ and with Crowley everything felt as natural as grace. It was, in the event, a few minutes before they broke apart and recovered themselves enough to speak.

"-I said… your  _ car _ , Crowley."

"Nah. No, you don't love my car. She goes too fast for you."

"So do you," Aziraphale told him fondly. Then he gripped Crowley's lapels and pulled him back in.


End file.
